The Valley of Lies (Lightkeepers #1)

Chapter FIFTEEN: Zan

Sneaking around the Coven was tedious, and Ayer's decaying room in the cellar could hardly be called hospitable at the end of a long day, but it was warm. Warmer than Zan's tree-bound cottage most of the time. The room was next to the lower kitchens, wedged right up against the enormous stone oven that rose through each sprawling level of the ancient elven structure, until its dark smoke dispersed in fits and gasps through one of the Coven's many, soot-choked chimneys.

Zan lay curled up on the tattered rug at the foot of Ayer's bed, his paws and tail tucked into his softly pelted belly. It was late, and his sister was still unaccounted for. Was the Triumvirate torturing her, pushing her past her limits? Ayer didn't tell Zan everything that went on when he wasn't around. She did it to protect him, to keep him from worrying more than necessary, not that her strategy worked. Zan's overactive imagination filled in more blanks than he would have liked. It was why he hung around most evenings, waiting for her to be relieved from her slave labor.

When the loose knob on her door finally jiggled, he startled awake from a restless catnap. He yawned and arched his back, then let out a quiet meow to announce his presence.

"You're still here?" Ayer unlaced the bonnet tied at her chin and tossed it onto the single dresser on the wall beside the door. "I thought you would have gotten bored with waiting and gone home, but I'm glad you stayed. You had better change so we can talk. There's something I need you to do."

Ayer needed him to do something? That was odd. Usually she was discouraging him from action, even though he never listened.

He took a last look at her unusual outfit as she grabbed a hold of the makeshift curtain he'd helped her rig up, drawing it across the ceiling to split the room down the center.

"Why do you look so clean?" he asked after he'd Changed and gotten dressed in the spare set of clothes he kept in her room for occasions like this.

"Someone really ought to teach you manners," Ayer groused, pulling back the curtain once the rustling on both sides ceased. His sister had let down her hair, changed into a plain shift dress, and began twisting her long tresses into a thick plait.

"No thanks, I prefer my uncivilized ways. It makes life easier for me." Zan hoped his goofy smile would brighten Ayer's mood, but his brotherly charms didn't seem to work tonight. She was holding the end of her completed braid, worrying the dark strands between her callused fingers.

"You need to leave Blackwater." She spoke barely above a whisper. "Go south, toward the ley lines, like you mentioned the other night." When she'd practically strangled him for suggesting the same? "You were right, Zan. If there are Darkbane elves out there, you need to find them as soon as possible."

"What-–why? I mean, yes, I agree, but why now?"

This was the first time Ayer had suggested he leave Blackwater. The witches were dangerous, but his sister had always been more worried about him going than staying. The only logical explanation he'd come up with was that she couldn't bear to be alone, although she'd never admitted it.

"The Triumvirate has taken Darkbane elves captive. I don't know how many they have, but I'm certain they'll be looking for more. You need to find them first and bring them to Loradyn. Have them seek sanctuary with the Yansu." She sat down on the end of her bed, and Zan joined her. There was no mattress on the raised slab of scrap lumber, only a couple of thin, moth-eaten blankets. "I know Mother won't see you, but she doesn't have to. Let the free Darkbane explain what's happened, she'll believe them. Then, maybe..."

"Maybe she'll come save you."

Was it too much to hope for?

The Darkbane would have no evidence to prove the dragon princess was alive and in Blackwater. But if they appealed to the dragon queen to save their people, perhaps she would come to their aid. Once the Yansu were in Blackwater, they would inevitably discover Ayer.